


The sound of your voice stirs me across the stars

by savvyliterate



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-28
Updated: 2012-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 05:03:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savvyliterate/pseuds/savvyliterate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They’re not running all the time. Eventually, Melody pulls Jamie into her room so they can discuss strategy. Except there’s all that adrenaline, and it needs to go somewhere.” River reads to the Doctor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The sound of your voice stirs me across the stars

**Author's Note:**

> This story has spoilers for the identity of a certain novel character in "The Angels Take Manhattan." It came about no thanks to Marta and Danica, both who have ideas of River reading racy scenes to the Doctor from the Melody Malone books. Well ...

It wasn’t very often that the phone rang in his room. Actually, the Doctor was quite sure that the phone had never rang in his room. Ringing phones and his bedroom were an anomaly, and it was for that reason alone he hesitated to answer the old-fashioned handset. A 1927 Western Electric 102. He really was quite fond of it. On the 16th ring, he realized the caller wasn’t going to go away, and the answerphone was routed to the console. So, he answered it.

“Hello, sweetie,” River purred from the other end, static cutting through the line. “Did you lose the phone again?”

“River.” Her name huffed out on a long breath, and the Doctor leaned back into his pillows. “The phone in our room has never rang before!”

“Our room. Oh, good, so it’s post-Area 52.” He could hear the shuffling of pages on her end. “I hate when we get before that. You’re so adorable young, but it’s not quite the same. Have you done the Trisca Swamps yet?”

“Yes, yes” He ran through his recent memory, his own diary tucked in the tweed jacket slung over the chair across the room. “Have you done Chile, 1471?”

“No, but I believe I know about when we are.” He heard her book snap shut on the other end. “This is perfect.”

“Where are you?” He absently wrapped the phone cord around his finger, already mentally planning where to take her. As tired as he was -- for once -- traveling with River sounded good. Amy and Rory were tucked in their bed, and he wanted time with his wife. “I’ll come pick you up.”

“I’m working,” River replied, and he heard the shuffle of papers. “I’m writing a book.”

“A book?” Intrigued, the Doctor tugged a pillow into his lap. He absently waved a hand in the air. “Archaeology,” he said with great disdain. “What sort of discovery am I going to have to correct now?”

“Not hardly,” River said crisply. “And, you have yet to prove any of my discoveries were factually incorrect.”

“That dig on Atrax 9 …”

“Was proven to have genuine artifacts, and my theories have been adopted into intergalactic history books.” River’s voice was several degrees above the temperature of an Arctic ice flow. Then it changed, to warm and sultry tones that made his toes curl in the garish socks he wore. “I’m writing a novel. Pulp fiction, to be exact.”

“Oh really?” He hugged the pillow to his chest. “You bad, bad girl. Tell me about your book.”

“I’ve developed a character that I’m hoping to get spun off into a series of films. One-reel shorts to start with, maybe a couple of features. Mysteries, with a dash of romance. Well, more than a dash,” she admitted. “My heroine is a private detective, running her own agency. She’s investigating a case at the film set where she’s been invited to become a star. Very glamorous. While there, she’s run into her longtime lover.”

“Is that so?” He tugged at his bow tie a bit to loosen it, leaving it draped around his neck. “How often does she get to see him?”

“Not often enough,” River admitted. “He’s a professor that travels throughout the world. Very busy, always making new discoveries. People look at them and wonder why they’re ever together. But Melody Malone knows why she’s with Jamie Chesterton and doesn’t regret a moment. She wouldn’t rewrite a single line of their time together.”

Warmth flooded the Doctor at the thought that River had bestowed his avatar in the book with the names of two of his oldest companions that had meant the most to him. “So, what does she do when she runs into Jamie?”

“Running, of course.” They laughed together at that. “But, they’re not running all the time. Eventually, Melody pulls Jamie into her room so they can discuss strategy. Except there’s all that adrenaline, and it needs to go somewhere.” She shuffled some papers on her end. “She has him against the door before it’s barely shut,” she reads from them. “He quickly flips them so he’s pressing her into the wall, hands buried in her curls, freeing them from the upswept hairdo she’d done for the press party. His leg’s between her thighs, and she feels _everything_. The long, lean body with muscles straining. His hot breath smells of the pie he’d managed to sneak before they began running. She feels his erection pressing into her thigh, and god she wants him.”

He swallowed. Hard. His legs shifted a bit restlessly as his trousers suddenly got a bit too tight. “Isn’t that racy for a pulp fiction novel, dear?”

“That’s why I’m running the scene by you, my love. You tell me if I’ve gone too far.” Her voice was oozing pure sex, and the Doctor knew what she was doing. A man would have to be dead not to recognize it. But, he couldn’t bring himself to care, to make her stop. Unconsciously, his hand ran up the growing bulge in his trousers, and he closed his eyes.

“She pulls away from him and begins undoing the hooks holding her corset together. One by one, bottom to top as she gives him a sultry smile. His eyes are riveted to her cleavage, and oh, she is proud of it. She’s always loved the way he worshipped her breasts. Kneading them, kissing the cleft between them, using his teeth to tease those nipples into hardened nubs. The last hook gives way, and she discards the corset over a chair before unbuttoning her dress. She goes slowly, and when the last button gives way, the dress drops to pool at her feet. She’s wearing nothing but silk knickers, stockings, a garter belt and a come-hither smile.”

“He approaches her now, his eyes dark and pupils dilated. She slides her hands up to his shirt, deftly undoing the buttons until she can smooth her hands over his chest. He kisses her again, his hands sliding into her knickers to cup her arse and press himself into her. One hand slides around, between her legs and lightly brushes her folds. ‘Eager, aren’t we, Melody?’ he whispers as he circles around her clit with a finger, teasing her by not touching it. She moans a bit, shifting so she can get her finger where she wants it, but he merely bites down on her lip. ‘Not yet, my bad girl,’ he whispers.”

He swallowed. Hard. “I’m really like that?”

“What do you think, sweetie? Too far?”

Absurdly pleased, he glanced down to see the buttons of his shirt had somehow worked their way open. The air on his heated skin was blessedly cool. “Keep going,” he rasped and, giving into the inevitable, started to unbutton his trousers.

He could almost hear her smirk. “She pushes his shirt off and reaches for the fall of his trousers, easing the buttons open as she drops to her knees. She kisses the quivering muscles of his abdomen and licks at his belly button, making him laugh. Then, she draws him out -- long and smooth with a bit of precum clinging to him. She laves her tongue over the slit, drawing that drop into her mouth. It tastes of smoke and time and him, and he groans as she does this. Yes, just like that, sweetie,” she said as he finally freed his own erection and hissed from the sheer relief. 

“I think,” he managed, “‘precum’ might be a bit too much for the book.”

“Hmm … Yes.” He heard pen scratches on her end. “We’ll go with a drop. A single clear drop that tastes of him, and her tongue catches it, drawing it into her mouth. Perfect. Now, where were we? Oh, yes. She takes him into her mouth, drawing his shaft in all the way until he is arching away from her. His hands fist her curls as she slowly pulls back out, then repeats it. She wraps one hand around his erection, the other splays across his thigh. He looks down at her, his shaft disappearing between those ruby red lips, drawing him deep before creating a tight suction and slowly withdrawing. Then she licks that slit again, wrapping her tongue around him as she kisses down to the base of his shaft and back up before repeating it. Legs weak, he stumbles back until he’s leaning against the wall, and she follows. She draws him back into her mouth, and that hand on his thigh moves. She slips it into her knickers and strokes herself as her mouth slides over him.”

He doesn’t remember when he began to stroke himself, but oh he could see it. Part of him wanted to trace that call, to go scoop River up and make her literally act out those words she teased him with. But, he doesn’t want to move. Not now. His eyes closed, he pumped his shaft with increasing speed as Melody did the same for Jamie in the pages of that book. 

“She can feel the moment when he realizes there’s no going back from this, when he gives himself over to what she wants to do to him. He tries half-heartedly to push her away, to strip her knickers off and sink so deeply into her that you couldn’t tell where he or she began. Then he grabs her curls, fisting them tight in his hands as he pushed down a bit. Oh, he can feel it coming. Can’t you my love? That sweet, sweet release, just hanging out of your reach. You want it very badly, don’t you?”

His hand moved rapidly now, his body coiling tight, tight, tight as his hips jerked. He hissed her name as he ran the flat of his hand over his shaft, using the wetness as a poor substitute to actually being with her. 

“She smiles, a quick flash of those red lips, then creates a perfect suction that causes him to jerk and cry out as his orgasm rushes through him. She doesn’t leave him, merely swallows and presses a kiss to his shaft as she releases it. He sinks to the floor, and it’s the perfect angle for her. She scoots back a little spreading her legs. He sees the damp patch in the crotch, and she thinks if she teases him enough that he could just go for round two. But, Melody had always been selfish and, well … a woman simply couldn’t wait. She slides her fingers back into her knickers, spreads her legs wide and thrusts her fingers deep in herself.”

And that was it. That image, the thought of his wife touching herself -- because it was River in his mind, not Melody Malone (who was River to begin with) -- that sent him over the edge. The orgasm seemed to go on and on and on, and he could no longer hear the words she was reading. With a half-sob, he collapsed into the pillows, the room spinning around him as he reeled from the force of his release.

“Well,” River said cheerfully. “And, we’re not even halfway through the scene.”

“River, that can’t be in the book,” the Doctor rasped.

“Oh, sweetie.” Her laughter warmed his hearts. “That sort of thing is far too private to be in the book. The real scene ends when he’s freeing her hair while pressing her against the wall. Let’s just say it’s clear though that they had a very satisfactory evening.”

“River!”

She kept laughing. “Oh, sweetie. Have a nice release?”

He huffed, a bit indignant, but ridiculously pleased at the same time. “You didn’t get anything out of it.”

“Did I not?” He heard her shuffling, then a low moan. “Mmm … let’s just say I’m about to have a very nice time myself.”

“Coordinates,” he snapped, springing from the bed. He used the bedclothes to hastily clean himself. “Now.”

The moment she gave them, he hung up the phone and sprinted to the console room, only pausing briefly to fix his clothes. The moment the TARDIS landed, he sent a mental command to keep Amy and Rory from following if they woke up and bolted out the doors. Oh, thank fate, he thought as he burst into the room to see River reclining on a bed, the phone still in one hand and the other in her knickers. He strode to her, plucking the phone out of her hand before kissing her deeply. He drew her hand out of her knickers before hooking the elastic and drawing them over her hips. 

He could see how turned on she was, and he used that to his advantage. He lowered his head between her thighs, pressing a kiss to her belly button, then down over the mound of soft, damp curls until his tongue eased between her folds. He drew her clit between his lips and used his tongue to flick at it several times, until she was writhing above him and clutching his hair with one hand. Her hips jerked and twisted, and he refused to take any pity on her. No, she had driven him mad with her teasing and taunting, and this was payback of the most intimate sort.

He was relentless, scraping his teeth lightly over her clit before sucking hard. He was going to make her scream, and he wanted the entire world to hear it. Her stomach muscles quivered beneath him, and he knew she was literally on the edge. With one last suck that’s intentionally harder than the rest, she tensed and lets out a keening cry that’s music to his ears. He pushed it, licking at her oversensitive clit until she shoved him away, curling in on herself as she trembled from the aftershock of the orgasm.

“Oh my god,” River breathed, and the Doctor had to agree with her. He slowly crawled up beside her and collapsed on the mattress, crushing manuscript pages in the process. “We have got to do that again, honey.”

“Yes,” the Doctor replied. He pulled out a crumpled page and studied the words River had typed. “So writing a sequel?”

Her eyes glittered as she turned to him. “I’ve plans for an entire line of Melody Malone novels.”

“Fantastic.”


End file.
